


Held Together

by olivegang



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Mentions of Major Character Death, Other, Season 3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivegang/pseuds/olivegang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a cutesy/sad lil one shot that takes place after season 3. season 3 spoilers!!<br/>no one dies in the fic, there are only MENTIONS of character death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Held Together

**Author's Note:**

> MENTIONS of character death - NO ONE DIES I PROMISE IT'S ONLY 1,068 WORDS!!! <3 Enjoy

      You were in the woods in the daytime with your sister, laughing and playing. The woods soon turned dark though, shadows circling you, separating you from your sister. You scream, but nothing comes out, and the shadows are getting closer. You can't see your sister anymore, but a shadow reaches out, and-  
     *Knock knock!*  
     You shot up out of bed, nearly screaming in surprise. You look to the clock on your nightstand; 3:32 am. What the hell woke you up at 3:32 in the morning?   
     *Knock knock!*   
     Oh. You race to the front door, ignoring the fact that all you're wearing is a small tank top and a pair of old track shorts. Whoever it was couldn't be dressed much better than you at this hour.  
     *Knock knock!*  
     "Coming!" you shout. Or, at least try to shout. It's drowned out by a loud yawn that you're sure whoever's at the door heard. You grab the handle, shaking it violently when it won't turn at first, before unlocking it by slapping at the deadbolt above the door. You could never be too careful, especially after what happened almost three years ago.   
     "Hello?" you ask groggily, eyes half closed and not seeing who was there.  
     "Uh, hey." the tall figure says. You're eyes widen. You know that voice. That voice saved your life almost three years ago, or at least it's owner did.   
     "Sam." you whisper in disbelief, looking up at him in awe. You had never expected to see him again, not after what happened.  
     "I'm sorry, I hope I didn't wake you up. I just- could I come in?" he asks, shuffling his feet. He's wearing jeans, a plaid shirt with a brown jacket, like he never went to sleep, even though he looks even more tired than you probably do.  
     "Yeah, sure. I mean, come in." you say, opening the door wider so he could get in. He shuffles into the small house, needing to duck to get through the door.  
     "You don't have any roommates, do you?" he asks curiously, peering at some framed pictures hanging from the walls of you and your friends.  
     "I do, I have two. Twin sisters. They're, uh, out of town visiting their mom who was just in a, um, a car crash." you explain, the words coming out like a car crash, running into each other on their way out of your mouth. The initial shock of Sam's arrival had worn off, replaced by curiosity and your original sleepiness.  
     "Oh. Okay. Wow, you look really tired, did I wake you up?" he asks worriedly, although he must already know the answer.  
     "Yeah, but it's fine. You saved me from a nightmare anyway, so I guess I should thank you." You respond, a smile playing at your lips. You had missed him.  
You, Sam, and Dean used to hunt together, not for long, but for a long enough time that you had begun to feel like a family. They had saved you from a vengeful spirit that had killed your little sister when you were 19, and you had been hunting with them ever since. That is, until Sam disappeared, and you and Dean split up to look for him. When you got word from Bobby that Sam was dead, you cried for two days, and then got a message from Dean saying he was alive. You decided that you couldn't take anymore, and ran to start a new, normal life. You changed your phone number, after sending a message letting Sam and Dean you had to leave them, started college three states away in the spring, and that was that.  
     You never dreamed one day they'd be back.  
     "So, what brings you here?" you ask, sitting down on the worn, blue sofa, beckoning for Sam to do the same.  
     "Um, well, Dean's dead." he says quietly, folding his hands.  
     Your eyes widen. This wakes you up. A million questions crash against your lips like waves; When? How? What were you two doing? Who? And can I kill whatever it was? You keep your mouth closed, figuring it's best to let Sam grieve, making him think about it would be painful.  
     "Sam, I'm so sorry. When?" you ask, letting one question pass your barrier of promised silence.   
     "Almost almost four hours ago now. Remember when you left, you heard I was dead, heard I was alive again, and then you came here? Dean sort of sold his soul to a demon to bring me back to life. We've been hunting down the demon that holds his contract, and she lead us here, well, not here, about four towns south of here in New Harmony. We tried to kill her, but Dean's contract was up at midnight. You were the only one hear by I could come to." he explains.  
     "Sam, I- I don't know. I just can't believe it." you say in a soft, low voice, on the brink of tears.   
     "I was- I was running around, to every crossroads I could find, to try and summon a demon, but none of them would do business with a Winchester," he notes forlornly, "I have to get him back."  
     You take Sam's hand in yours, both of your hands are cold, but neither of you mind.  
     "How did he die?" you ask gravely, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over at any moment.  
     "Hellhounds." he whispers, the word barely audible. You close your eyes and nod, a soft sob escaping your lips, followed by a steady stream of tears staining your cheeks.  
     "Why did you come to me?" you ask quietly, the words broken up by sobs.  
     "You deserved to know, and I just figured that it would be better to grieve together than to cry alone."  
     He's right. Your memory goes back to those nights in a strange motel room, lying on the dirty floor in front of the door because no matter how hard you tried you couldn't convince yourself you could make it to the bed. You remember listening to Dean's voicemail over and over; "Sammy's dead, I thought you should know." Sammy's dead. Sammy's dead. Sammy's dead.   
     You collapse onto his shoulder, a fit of sobs, partly from the news about Dean, partly from remembering when Sam 'died'.   
     He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, his arms seeming to hold you together.

 


End file.
